A Moment Alone
by equalsTrashFlavoredTrash
Summary: John and his wife just want a moment alone but that can be difficult when you have a big family


You were awoken by the feeling of John's fingers snaking their way under your night dress and along your thigh. Blindly you reached over your shoulder to slide your own hand along his cheek until you cupped the back of his head. Pulling him closer, you hummed as he began to nip along your shoulder while his touch came to rest at the apex between your thighs. **  
**

"John," you moaned before rolling onto your back, eyes still shut. Shifting out a knee, you aided his access as his lips moved to trail along your jaw. Continuing to massage your folds through the cotton of you underwear, his mouth finally came to yours. He pulled on your bottom lip and climbed between your legs.

"Morning, luv," he greeted as you opened your eyes. His voice was gravely from sleep, carrying a low timber that only ever occurred in the early morning which never failed to excite you. You couldn't help but bite your lip and wiggle your hips against him before wrapping your arms around his neck.

He leaned in to capture your mouth again when a shrill cry reverberated through the walls of the house. The pair of you let out a groan in unison at the sound of your daughter crying. John dropped his head, resting against the crook of your neck and let out a frustrated grumble.

"If we're quick we could probably finish before the boys wake up," you suggested with a nudge to his shoulder.

"No use," John sighed, pushing himself off of you and rolling to climb out of bed. "I won't be able to get it up with her wailing like that."

The heals of your shoes clicked on the wooden floorboards as you walked through the main room of Shelby Company Limited towards John's office. It was noon and you'd prepared him a small lunch and cup of tea.

Pushing the door open with a bump of your hip, you announced your presence before entering his small office. You kicked the door shut behind you, moving to set a sandwich wrapped in wax paper and a cup on his desk in front of him. "I brought you some food."

"Not hungry," John stated as he capped his pen and reclined in his chair, his gaze slowly traveling over your form while you circled his desk before stopping to rest against the polished mahogany surface once you were next to him.

"It's ham and cheese, your favorite," you pouted, pretending not to notice his palm creeping up your leg.

"I'd beg to differ," he suggested with a smirk you knew all too well. "I can think of something else I'd much rather eat." John rose from his seat, stepping closer to stand between your knees as he pulled the tooth pick from the corner of his mouth. On instinct, your hands drifted to his shoulders while he gathered your skirt in his fists.

"Oh really?" you teased with a coy smile, moving near enough that his nose brushed against yours.

"We never got to finish this morning," he reminded you in a low voice that made you smile.

"Finish? We barely got started." John couldn't help but laugh at your response before swooping in with a kiss. Your tongues wrestled as he guided to you to lay back on his desk. His hands drifted to the waistband of your underwear when you heard the sound of the knob twisting.

"John, Tommy needs you to—," Finn began as he opened the door before cutting himself off once he was in the office. He froze, the brass handle still in his grasp, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight before him.

"Well, spit it out!" John barked, obviously infuriated with his little brother's intrusion though still bent over his desk. You tried to adjust yourself, lowering your legs into a position less provocative than wrapped around John's hips.

"Tommy needs you to go check the cargo at the docks," the youngest Shelby blurted out, adjusting his stance so he stared at the wall.

"Fuck," John swore as he righted himself from ontop of you, adjusting his waistcoat before grabbing his jacket. "Oi, quit starin'," he quipped, giving a smack to the back of Finn's head when he noticed that the younger Shelby had returned to watching you fix your skirt. Grabbing his little brother's shoulder, John led him out of the office, shutting the door to give you a moment alone.

It was a few hours later when you heard the door slam behind you but paid it no mind as you continued to scribble on the note pad. You were leaning over the long oak table in Polly's kitchen trying to recall exactly what needed to be purchase at market this afternoon–that is if you're not kept late and able to make it.

"I'll never tire of this view," John spoke from the doorway, eyeing your rear in the air. With a huff you twisted to look over your shoulder at him. Taking a single single step forward, he crossed the tile floor to stand directly behind you, bringing his fingers forwards to grip either side of your hips, slightly pressing his groin into your backside. Straightening up, you spun around to face him, slowly moving your palms across his chest then under the lapels of his jacket.

"Is that so?" you asked in a light tone before wrapping your fingers around his waistcoat and yanking him forward so his mouth crashed into yours. He was off balance for a second until he altered his grip, moving one of his hands to splay across the small of your back, pressing you against him as the other laid flat on the table behind you.

He moaned into your mouth as you dropped your arms, trailing your fingertips down his abdomen before undoing his belt buckle. With eager movements you pushed your hand past the waistband of his slacks and boxers, wrapping your fingers around his semi-erect length.

John grinned against your lips as you touched him, making him all the more eager to touch you. Just as he reached for the top button of your blouse, both of you heard his older brother's voice ring through the house.

"Family meeting!" Tommy called as he opened the door to the kitchen, placing a cigarette between his lips as he entered. He kept his eyes down before he struck a match and spoke, "Alright, hands off John-boy's cock, we've got business to discuss."

Standing up, he shook out the match. John began to move away from ontop of you while you brought your hands back to yourself. Polly followed in next, entering the kitchen just as John was refastening his belt.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph," she hissed with a shake of her head. "You two are worse than a pair of bloody rabbits. It's bad enough you gave poor Finn a peep show this mornin'," she trailed off as John and you both mumbled an apology and stepped a little further apart.

After a slow evening at the Garrison the brothers decided to call it in early, each heading off to their respective beds for the night. John noticed the second he crossed the threshold of the front door, that something was amiss. There was an unfamiliar silence about the house. Being the home of four children under seven years old and one untrained dog who loved to terrorize the squirrels through the window, it never got this quite. Even in the dead of night there was still someone making a fuss.

"Oi," he called, pulling his cap from his head as he studied the dark, empty space, trying to ignore the horrible possibilities that his anxiety suggested. "Anyone 'ome?"

"Up here," your voice replied from the second floor. John took the stairs two at a time as he raced to the bedroom you and he shared.

"What's going on, ay?" he questioned as he swung the door open, freezing mid-step once he spotted you sitting on the bed in a favorite nightgown of his. You could see the worry melt from his face and his smirk returning as he composed himself.

"I got Pol to watch the kids for the night," you explained, shifting so you were kneeling, beckoning him closer. "And Arthur agreed to take Wagstaff, so there'll be none of his late night barking." Wrapping your fingers around his tie you pulled at the knot, loosening it before reaching up to undo the fastener to his Arrow shirt collar. The starched white fabric seemed to pop open just for you, revealing his throat. Grinning to yourself as his adam's apple bobbed, you leaned forward and began to kiss along his jugular while you spoke, punctuating each world with a small peck, "Tonight it's just us. You and me."

Pulling back, you looked up to John, bitting your lip. Your face dropped when he pulled away and moved to the entrance of the room. "What are you doing?"

"Locking the fucking door," he replied as he did just that, twisting the key under the knob so the irons inside audibly clicked shut.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, slumping back onto the mattress, "No one's gunna bother us, I made sure."

"That said, I ain't taking any fucking chances." John slammed the key on top of the dresser before spinning around and stalking back to the bed, quickly removing his jacket and waistcoat as he moved. He began to deftly unbutton his shirt, just enough that he could pull the oxford cloth over his head. You fought back your smile, enjoying seeing him make quick work of discarding his clothes when he growled, "That door will stay shut until you're knocked up again."

You knew he was teasing but you couldn't help let out an exasperated groan at the idea. "The last thing we need is another bloody child."


End file.
